


First Impressions (the girl booty remix)

by letosatie



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, F/F, Remix, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7961080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letosatie/pseuds/letosatie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh no, she’s always like that,” Raven said, in response to something hushed Charlotte had said.  “I doubt anyone can earn our esteemed Principal’s good opinion.”</p><p>“Well, you know the popular saying.”  Charlotte didn’t bother to keep her voice down.  “If at first you don’t impress, screw that cow!’’</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Erika is unimpressed with Charlotte Xavier when they first meet.  But Erika being Raven's Principal and Charlotte being Raven's guardian, (and Raven being Raven) means they are forced to interact again and again.  </p><p>Erika should learn to appreciate second chances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impressions (the girl booty remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radkoko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radkoko/gifts).
  * Inspired by [First Impressions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4636641) by [radkoko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radkoko/pseuds/radkoko). 



> Thanks to my betas - you know who you are.

Ms Erika Lehnsherr locked her office and strode briskly toward the front doors of the school. She liked to leave by the main doors and walk around to the car park as a way of touching her school and leaving her mark. Erika was long and spindly and didn’t mind the association of the daddy-long-legs spider, as whispered by the braver students in the halls. In fact, she loved the idea that she was connected to each part of the school and when something happened it would reverb back to her. The circuitous route at the end of the day was like making sure the webbing was firm. 

She’d just opened the heavy double doors when a short brunette stumbled up the steps, landing hard on one knee and letting out a shocked squeak. 

“Are you alright?” Erika asked in her clipped accent, and she reached out a hand. 

The other woman giggled in an unforgivably giddy manner, pulling a lavender knitted top down from where it had ridden up over a rounded belly. “I don’t need help to climb the stairs, however improbable that may seem, but I do need directions to the drama room, if you could?” She was shimmying and tugging at a grey tweed skirt, trying to sit it straight, but as the skirt may as well have been painted on given its very close relationship to solid thighs, she eventually tsked and gave up.

Erika found herself retracting her hand. “I can do that, but may I ask what your business there is?”

She was given a smirk and a highly arched eyebrow, before an answer. “I’m late to pick up Raven Darkholme from the Twelfth Night rehearsals, and I’ve told her if I’m not here in time to wait inside, so I’d assume she’s there and fuming.” 

“Ah,” said Erika. “Follow me.”

As she led the woman down the main corridor, Erika snuck a sidelong look. So this was Charlotte Xavier, Raven’s guardian. The staff room whispers indicated she was unsuitably young. Erika, who was very young to be principal of a district high school of this size, had ignored the implications. Miss Xavier did, at first glance, appear unlikely for the task, looking barely older than Raven herself despite her attempts to dress like an octogenarian. Her skin was smooth, glowing, cheeks round like a fresh picked apple. She had a distinctive skip in her gait every few steps as if to gain ground where her short legs and tight skirt slowed her down. 

Erika subtly adjusted her pace.

“I’m Charlotte Xavier. Thank you for your help, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You work here, I gather?” Charlotte’s voice was still polite and perky, despite Erika making little effort to chat.

“I’m the principal,” Erika responded flatly.

“Oh,” cooed Ms Xavier, “That must be wonderful. I would love to provide guidance and a safe space for children and teenagers, see them make the most of their potential. You must be so fulfilled.”

Ms Xavier was the exact type Erika was physically attracted to: lips, hips and hair. But the disorganization of being late and the shallowness of the giggling, no, Erika couldn’t stand that. She had worked too hard to tolerate that sort of aimlessness.

Erika’s mind and tongue were sharp. They cut right through someone soft.

“I like my job. I like my school. I’ve worked very hard to be here,” Erika said. They rounded a corner. “There’s Raven up ahead.”

“Thank you, Principal Lehnsherr, you’ve been very kind and it’s been nice to meet you,” said Charlotte. She ran forward to Raven and they hugged. Raven batted at Charlotte’s head and Charlotte nudged back.

Erika frowned. What sort of example? The two sisters strolled past Erika arm in arm, Raven calling, “Bye, Ms Lehnsherr,” and Charlotte looking up, nodding.

It was the first direct eye contact they had had. Erika felt a shock at the sharpness of the very blue, very focussed gaze. Perhaps there was more to Charlotte Xavier than her appearance suggested.

“Oh no, she’s always like that,” Raven said, in response to something hushed Charlotte had said. “I doubt anyone can earn our esteemed Principal’s good opinion.”

“Well, you know the popular saying.” Charlotte didn't bother to keep her voice down. “If at first you don’t impress, screw that cow!’’

-x-x-

Erika tapped her pen impatiently on the desk as her secretary ushered Charlotte into her office. The new arrival was flustered, her face shiny and pink, wisps of hair stuck to her damp forehead, and she fell into, rather than sat in, the proffered chair.

Raven quickly elevated herself from a resentful slump, straightening her spine and looking concerned for the first time since she’d been marched to Erika’s office. 

Interesting, Erika thought. They’d seemed like girlfriends when she’d seen them together the other day, but Raven was showing every sign of the sort of discomfort pupils were likely to display under eminent disapproval of someone they respected. 

“Hello, Raven,” Charlotte said, eyeing her sister carefully, before turning to Erika and shaking her hand. “Ms Lehnsherr.”

“Miss Xavier, this is Mr Trask and his son, Carter,” Erika said.

“It’s Dr Trask actually,” said the man, twitching his sleeve cuff.

“Lovely,” said Charlotte, beaming. “I’d appreciate being called Charlotte.”

Dr Trask sniffed. “Charlotte.”

“Were you filled in on why we are here, Charlotte?” Erika asked.

“Not fully, only that there was an incident in drama class. As I was told it couldn’t be put off, and I had to get my class covered before I could leave, I assume it must be frightfully important,” Charlotte said to Erika. She peered at Raven, who was determinedly reading the fire procedure poster on the wall next to her. “What happened, Raven?” Erika was pleased to see Charlotte talking with the teenager rather than talking over her. 

Raven fidgeted in her chair and opened her mouth to speak, but Trask could be heard muttering, “Is that why we’ve been waiting? Couldn’t the janitor have supervised the finger painting?”

“Finger painting isn’t a common skill in the study of genetics, Dr Trask.” Charlotte’s voice became sharp and dangerous. “Although, I will admit that the obfuscation and subterfuge you used while managing to sell the sketchy statistics-and frankly mystifying leaps of logic-to the military in your last Sentinel Program funding proposal, took a level of artifice I have never seen outside of Hollywood. With luck, your son will have inherited that same skill in acting, and this performance of Twelfth Night will be unsurpassed. Additionally, if your science continues to fall short of your egotistic claims, my good friend Armando could use some help teaching finger painting to his mutant pre-school pupils. You can contact Armando through me, Professor Charlotte Xavier, at Columbia University or at Xavier Atomic.”

Erika noticed Raven twitching at the bite in Charlotte’s voice. The impulse to deliver a standing ovation was hot and weighty.

“Now,” Charlotte continued curtly, “given I’ve abandoned my TA in the clutches of undergrads for this, why are we here?”

“This… Your sister was cheating in class with her mutation,” Trask said.

“This is not about Raven’s mutation,” said Erika firmly, her tone dismissive though her fist was clenched against myriad similar memories while Erika was at school. “She has been cleared to use her mutation in drama class. It is about her response to being provoked in class.”

“Response?” asked Charlotte.

“She punched my son,” said Trask.

“Ah.” Charlotte pinched her lips together. “And the provocation?”

“Carter said it was disgusting, what I can do, that I shouldn’t be allowed to mix with normal people.” Raven’s lip trembled a little as she recounted, but her gaze remained firm on Ms Lehnsherr, who nodded encouragingly.

“Is that so,” said Charlotte, with a voice so steely Erika felt as if she could manipulate it.

“And then she punched me. In the face,” said Carter, with kindergarten levels of petulance. 

“I insist this student be suspended in accordance with school policy on physical violence,” said Trask, “and I do not feel that she deserves her role in the production. I demand that honour be stripped.”

The paperweight and name plaque on Erika’s desk were rattling now. As she took a deep breath to swallow back her outrage, Erika noticed Charlotte tapping one finger against the knuckles of her other hand. Apart from the minute tell, Charlotte was every inch the demure, well-bred gel; back straight without seeming stiff, ankles crossed, hands folded in her lap.

“As it is not my place to instruct Ms Lehnsherr on how to do her job,” said Charlotte, “I will not say what I expect from the school. I will, however, give you an outline of what I’d like to see happen, for the sake of symmetrical...” she waved her hand vaguely, “balanced input. I’d like to see Raven applauded for refusing to negotiate her equal rights with that young terrorist. I’d like to see said terrorist suspended and made to attend a seminar on the benefits of equality and the negative impact of prejudice on society, perhaps a prison visit to impress the reality of jail on a young person’s life and, additionally, a series of school-service detentions that particularly relate to aiding mutants or other marginalized parties.” 

Erika met Raven’s eye briefly, their guilty gazes fluttering away as Raven struggled to suppress a smile. Erika drew blood biting back her own. 

“Thank you for your… opinions,” said Erika. “No one will be suspended, this time, or lose their role in Twelfth Night, although I expect I will see neither insults nor punches thrown in the future. Raven and Carter will attend two detentions each and be expected to review school policy in order to complete an essay on tolerance and the expectations of students in their interpersonal relations in this High School.”

Erika stood up. It was a dismissal.

“This is outrageous,” cried Trask. “I will take it to the Board.”

“Thank you for coming: Dr Trask, Professor Xavier,” Erika said calmly. “Carter and Raven, here are your hall passes; back to class now.”

The Trasks left, one muttering, one shuffling. Charlotte stood and buttoned her tweed jacket over her belly. Only the one button though, as Erika suspected the others no longer met each other with any sort of ease. 

“I will not say this was a pleasant meeting, Ms Lehnsherr, but thank you for calling it,” Charlotte said. She licked her lips, a quick flick, and Erika realised she wasn’t wearing lipstick, that her lips were naturally that distracting, glossy red.

As Raven and Charlotte left the office, Erika followed, thinking to get a so-called coffee from the staff room. She could hear Charlotte saying, “We’ll talk about this later tonight, but I’m sorry that was said to you, Raven. I’m very proud you weren’t swayed to thinking he was right.”

Raven sighed. “Carter’s a dick.” Charlotte chuckled and kissed Raven’s hair.

“Did you know your Principal is a mutant?” 

“Is she?” breathed Raven, and when her head whipped around to Erika her eyes were huge and yellow. The sisters both looked surprised when they saw Erika still paused in her office doorway, guilty to have been overheard. “You’re a mutant, Ms Lehnsherr?”

“Raven,” Charlotte admonished, “Ms Lehnsherr has the right to be out in her own time. I wouldn’t have told you had I known you would talk about it. I apologise, Ms Lehnsherr.”

“I’m not ashamed,” said Erika, too loud. “I don’t hide.”

“Telekinesis?” mused Charlotte.

Erika shook her head. “I have the ability to manipulate electromagnetic fields.”

“So, ferrous metals? You can move them and also heat them?” Charlotte talked rapid-fire science in the most flirtatious tones. 

“Not only ferrous,” said Erika, “and, yes, heat.”

“Amazing,” Charlotte breathed. Her eyes were bright spotlights, pinning Erika like a new specimen. “Can you reshape metal via heat? Change their atomic bonds? Adjust their structures?” 

“Charlotte! Stop blathering on like a boring Professor. Oh, wait…” teased Raven.

Charlotte pinched her. 

Raven turned her attention to Erika. “What can you do? Will you show me?” she begged. She was fairly vibrating with awe. It would take a terrible person to deny her request.

Erika was not, despite locker-side rumours, a terrible person.

She held up her left hand and twirled it like a Balinese dancer. There was a groaning creak from inside Erika’s office and two shiny file cabinet handles wrenched off to circle above her hand. Erika’s fingers twitched again and they lost their shape, morphing into a shifting mass of grey, before spinning rapidly for several seconds. When the spinning stopped, there was a silver-coloured, torc-style bracelet hovering in front of each of the sisters. 

Raven took hers, ran her thumb over the delicate shaping. The arm of it was scaled and two raven heads faced each other over the gap, although Erika had made sure the beak points weren’t so sharp as to scratch. “Wow,” said Raven, reverently.

Charlotte hadn’t touched hers, but she was clearly fascinated. Actually, Erika thought, shifting her stance, she looked post-orgasmic. 

Erika plucked the torc from its hover spot. She’d engraved the arm with Xs and shaped the end-pieces into tiny violets. She cradled Charlotte’s wrist to slide the bracelet on. “Because you smell like violets,” she said.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you recognise the scent of Charlotte’s grandma perfume. That has just substantially lowered your cred,” said Raven.

“I think it might be time for you to get back to class, Raven,” said Erika, impassively.

“Fine,” said Raven. “Can I keep this?” She waved the bracelet.

“You may,” said Erika. “The files in that cabinet are boring anyway.”

Raven grinned and stomped down the corridor. “Raven!” called Charlotte. “Manners.”

“Oh. Thanks Ms Lehnsherr,” Raven tossed over her shoulder.

Charlotte looked apologetic. “Thank you, really, we neither of us deserve treats.”

“It’s nothing,” said Erika.

“No. It’s not nothing. You’re incredible,” Charlotte told Erika. “Your power and your control over it.” 

Erika pressed her lips together to kept her smile at bay. She had been told by women at temple that her smile was too toothy and not properly demure, she had been told by an ex that it made her look like a man, she’d heard students say her smile looked like a threat. But it was hard. She wanted to beam at Charlotte who was delighting her, who was making her feel fascinating and a bit horny.

“I’ve never met someone with your ability or, in fact, heard of anything similar,” Charlotte was still talking, her voice a quilt swaddling Erika’s battered bones. “And you’ve developed all that by yourself?” 

“No, there was an older mutant who helped me discover what I was capable of when I was a teenager.” Erika flicked her wrist and Charlotte frowned. “His intentions weren’t nice. I don’t like to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry, Ms Lehnsherr,” said Charlotte sincerely.

“How did you guess about my mutation?” Erika asked, with sudden suspicion. “Did you see me slip in the office?”

 _I’m like you,_ Charlotte projected.

“Right,” said Erika, barely breathing to cover how mortified she was. “I have things to do. Good bye.”

Erika, iron ruler of 2843 teenagers and a staff of contrary teaching professionals, ran away from the 5’ 2” woman in the pink and tweed outfit, faster than was dignified for someone of her position.

-x-x-

“Raven was wonderful,” Erika said to Charlotte on opening night, having pulled on her big girl pants in order to approach her. 

“Yes, she was, wasn’t she?” Charlotte replied, her eyes wary. “I’m surprised to see you here.” She flung a hand out to encompass the parents and students milling around the auditorium, waiting for the actors to get out of costume or subtly rubbing their numb backsides.

“Why is that? Do you suppose all principals only support sports?”

Charlotte laughed. “That is generally the pattern.”

“I wanted to apologise for how abrupt I was last time,” said Erika, experiencing an odd mix of embarrassment and exhilaration.

“Thank you,” Charlotte sighed ruefully, “but I’m used to it.”

“But from another mutant, it’s even worse. Honestly, I’m not sure I’d excuse it.”

“I know it wasn’t about the mutant but about the mutation itself, if that makes sense,” said Charlotte. She smoothed her tiny hands down her skirt, mint green and paired with a teal cardigan. Had the woman inherited her wardrobe along with her penchant for science and her vast fortune? 

“You shouldn’t have to be ashamed of your powers,” Erika assured her.

“Not ashamed, no. But I do need to be vigilant about telepaths using their powers responsibly, myself included,” Charlotte argued. “If I’m not, it’s like tweeting ‘hashtag: not all men.’ Like it or not, I am judged for my community and we’re ‘problematic’, as Raven would say.” Charlotte smiled and Erika watched the corners of her eyes scrunch up. “Speaking of…” 

“Charlotte,” Raven called, dragging Hank behind her. “We need to get to the cast party.”

“Are all your things in the car?”

“Yes. Can we take Hank?”

“Does Hank want to be taken?”

“Charlotte!”

“Alright, put your Hank in the car.”

Erika said, “Raven. You were exquisite. Your interpretation was perfection.”

She grinned. “Thank you, Ms Lehnsherr!”

“And Hank, the lighting and sound was spot on,” Erika said.

Hank blushed and mumbled, “Thanks.”

“See you again, Principal Lehnsherr,” said Charlotte, stepping away.

“Perhaps you could call me Erika?” She ducked her head for the first time since reaching adulthood.

“Erika,” said Charlotte. The sound of her name rolled around in Charlotte’s mouth and came out changed, highlighted somehow, hanging between them like a snowflake. 

“By the way,” said Erika, “Nice bracelet.”

“Thank you, yes,” said Charlotte, with a snobby air, “it’s made from the finest filing cabinet.”

-x-x-

Erika adjusted her shoulder strap. At some point in her twenties, she’d grown into her body and could carry her outfit for the charity dinner: a loose flowing evening dress and her one indulgent pair of shoes in gorgeous, hand-stitched maroon silk. Erika knew she was what people termed “a handsome woman”, which meant she was too sharp to be pretty, too angular to be graceful. 

A waiter offered her champagne and Erika shrugged and took a glass. The bubbles broke on her nose as she sipped it. 

The dinner was in aid of developing young mutants skills, both for safety and excellence. As a mutant in charge of a co-educational school, someone was bound to want to talk at Erika tonight. But she had no interest in going looking for conversation, and stood central to the room, unconcerned.

Charlotte Xavier made her entrance, almost taking out a canape waitress but then smiling so sincerely the waitress laughed. Charlotte’s hair was twitching in every direction, as usual, only tonight perhaps this was the aim. It was down, curling and bouncing, warm as hot cocoa and Erika wanted to tug it. 

Stop gawking, Erika instructed herself, and peeped at Charlotte’s dress from behind her glass. It was soft blue, and somehow floaty and exposing all of Charlotte’s curves at once. The way the fabric moved, rubbing in circles over Charlotte’s hips as she walked into the room, Erika could slide the skirt up, getting her hands on… Erika cut that train of thought off, firmly telling herself not to perve.

Then Charlotte looked her way. She waved enthusiastically, but it died off awkwardly when Erika stood frozen.

Jolted, Erika rushed over. “I’m sorry, Charlotte,” she said, “I’m just.. I was stunned to see you here. You look amazing.” 

A beautiful, delicate pink spread across the tops of Charlotte’s cheeks. A sunrise.

Dammit, thought Erika, time to live up to my reputation as tough and capable. “Also, I’m just always scared you’re going to hear the… completely inappropriate things I think about you.”

And then Erika Lehnsherr blushed.

“Like what?” asked Charlotte. “Perhaps the thoughts aren’t inappropriate if I don’t mind what you’re thinking.”

Something in Erika unfurled when Charlotte looked up at her.

Erika’s life had been battle after battle: proving a girl could do it, being the first mutant reluctantly included, carving a space for herself despite not being welcome. Charlotte was an invitation. She was a fairy-light lined path, winding through an overgrown garden to an open front door, the smell of cinnamon and the whistle of a teakettle. She was stick figure art pinned to the fridge with magnets. She was a mother’s whispered promise, “God made you Erika. He doesn’t make mistakes. You will see; there is someone to whom you are perfect, someplace you will just fit.”

“Dance with me?” asked Erika, holding out her hand, like the first time she saw Charlotte.

Charlotte took it and they went to dancefloor. Erika was tall, Charlotte’s head fit under her chin with room to spare, and her head had only the bones of Erika’s sternum to rest on. Erika was left glaring over Charlotte’s flyaway hair at anyone who stared at them. It was wonderful.

They danced in a tight swaying circle for a few songs, then Charlotte tipped her head back. “Tell me,” she implored. “It can’t be worse than the things I think about you. You and your long legs, and your raw power, your beautiful determination and your delicious waist.”

“Like your hips,” said Erika, hugging Charlotte closer. “I want to squeeze them, grip them and tug them towards me. And I want to see how many different shades of pink I can make your skin go. And your lips. I want to kiss them, soft at first, just little presses; and then hard. I might bite.”

Charlotte made a sound, like an ache squeezing out of a small space. 

Erika watched Charlotte’s lips fall open, not even aware of her own moving until she heard herself say, “Do you want to take a walk?”

Charlotte took Erika’s hand and fairly dragged her out a side door. It led to a corridor with pallid pink and grey wallpaper and bullet shaped lamps in the sconces.

“Do,” Charlotte ordered, “do what you just said.”

Erika did, taking Charlotte’s hips and lips, nibbling and tugging, before breaking off to pant. “You feel amazing under my hands.”

“That’s good because your hands feel amazing on me,” said Charlotte. “I bet your fingers would be devastating inside me.”

Erika groaned. “I want that… so much.”

“Me too. You know we’re in a hotel…”

“High school principals can’t afford hotel rooms like this,” sniped Erika.

“That’s okay, said Charlotte, running her thumbs over Erika’s braless nipples, making her long torso ripple like a snake. “Heiresses can. Do you want to?”

“Yes, I really, really do.” 

Charlotte got a room and they took the lift. Erika stood apart from Charlotte facing the door, trying for decorum. 

“I’m going to suck on those gorgeous looking breasts of yours,” said Charlotte, her voice rough. She was staring at the doors too, keeping her hands to herself, which suddenly seemed less like manners and more like torture to Erika. Charlotte’s tongue wiped a rapid stripe along her bottom lip. “I’m going to toss those stupidly long legs over my shoulders and eat you out until you cry.”

Erika made a strangled cough. “I can’t believe I thought you were fluffy when I first saw you.”

Charlotte just laughed as the elevator door pinged and drew open. She stumbled off her heels in her hurry to their room, and had kicked them away before Erika had even entered, let alone closed the door behind them.

Charlotte pushed Erika to the bed and climbed on after her. She slipped Erika’s shoulder straps down and applied her gorgeous mouth to Erika’s little breasts. Erika found herself clutching at the scruff of Charlotte’s neck, until Charlotte squeaked and shrugged her off. 

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Revenge,” Charlotte stated. She started at Erika’s ankles and savaged the skin with her sharp little teeth, ignoring Erika’s shocked cries and working her way up to tug at Erika’s undies. “Off, off,” she demanded.

Erika laughed and wriggled them off. Then she took her chance and unzipped Charlotte’s dress. When the bodice flopped down to Charlotte’s waist, Erika swore and pinched the blue-white skin swelling above and below a midnight-blue bra. She pushed Charlotte horizontal and kissed the spots better. Kiss, bite, kiss, nuzzle; repeat, until her ears roared. The world had shifted too quickly and Erika rested her face on the top of Charlotte’s belly, overwhelmed with how much she liked this confusing woman.

“Okay?” said Charlotte, pushing Erika’s hair back. 

“Yes,” said Erika from her stomach pillow, “but this is so good, I like you so much, it feels so great to be right here, and I’m not used to getting the things I want without hard and consistent work. This is so easy I’m dizzy.”

“I’m sorry things have been hard for you, darling,” Charlotte said. “If you’d like me to help you be more comfortable, I can think of some hard, consistent work for you; the sort it takes to furnish me with orgasms until the wee hours of the morning.”

“Mission accepted,” said Erika, glad that Charlotte understood short, sharp sympathy, that anything more sentimental would have grated. She rolled them onto their sides so she could liberate Charlotte’s bra, using the underwire to fling it dramatically over the bedside lamp. Charlotte laughed, surprised and thrilled. Erika winked. She felt giddy and brave and slipped her hand into Charlotte’s panties, dipped her fingers in and out and around chaotically.

“You’re so wet in here.”

“Uh, because…” panted Charlotte, “...legs, long. Oh, Christ.”

Charlotte took her turn to get Erika onto her back and straddled her, steadying her arm and rocking. Erika had never been so glad to be long and thin, twisting her fingers deftly, tickling inside Charlotte. And those incredible breasts were right there, right in Erika’s eyeline and swaying seductively. Erika nuzzled her face against them, breathing in violets. When she looked up at Charlotte, she was pink; so much life to her it was expressed in every pore.

Erika’s other hand was roaming and, oh, Charlotte was so soft. Her flesh moved in Erika’s hands, malleable. She kissed Charlotte again, tilting her head to get deeper. Charlotte moaned. The sound rolled through Erika, fluffing up her nerve endings like a cat being stroked against the grain.

Charlotte shifted, placing her thigh between Erika’s and picking up her rhythm again. Erika melted into the hotel mattress, the pressure just right and teasing on and off, and Charlotte’s face… it was ecstatic. It made Erika’s insides burn.

Erika shunted involuntarily, shoving her clit onto Charlotte’s thigh a few frantic times. She bent one knee and pressed up off the bed. 

“Charlotte,” she whispered, adrift and reaching out for any straw.

“Here, love, I’m here,” said Charlotte, placing her hand on Erika’s collarbone, and Erika felt encompassed, cradled. Erika clutched at Charlotte's arm, and came. Charlotte’s eyes and red, red mouth right there, Charlotte’s wrist caught in her fingers. Erika’s body felt stretchy as if it had blown out from the centre and forgotten how to reassemble. 

Erika’s fingers were being tapped, Charlotte’s inner walls fluttering. Erika had forgotten about her other hand for a minute. Charlotte let out a soft ‘ah’. And then she was smiling, kissing Erika, and laughing.

Charlotte’s chuckling was making Erika lightheaded. Erika was an overachiever. She excelled at anything she determined to, and knew she could make a woman come.

But Charlotte was plain happy, her joy indicated in tinkling, panting giggles, and Erika had done that. 

Her face rearranged, muscles slotting over each other until a broad, wondering grin burgeoned across it.

“Oh,” said Charlotte, pausing her movements to stare at Erika’s smile, “Oh, I want to make you do that all the time. You’re lovely.”

Erika knew her smile was not lovely.

“No, you are,” Charlotte giggled. “Your face was disagreeing with me, I didn’t have to read your mind.” She kissed Erika again. “You know what you were saying about easy? I usually have to take people out on numerous dates before I can get them to make me feel that good.”

“I’ve always achieved ahead of schedule,” bragged Erika, still smiling. “But I do want to have numerous dates with you.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“Yes,” confirmed Erika. “Dinner and dancing?”

“How about sangria and strap-ons?”

“I can’t decide if you’re the best or the worst thing to ever happen to me,” said Erika.

“I’m both,” Charlotte declared. “And I want to come again. Get to work.”

“Both,” agreed Erika, and set to her task with relish.


End file.
